


INT. BOKUTO'S MIND

by norio



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norio/pseuds/norio
Summary: Akaashi just wanted to give a nice and normal present to his nice and normal friend.





	

When Bokuto yelled, slammed the present to the ground, and sprinted out the door, Akaashi thought it was a bit of an overreaction. His second thought was being almost offended by the way his classmates glanced at the debacle and turned back to their conversations, disinterested and accustomed to Bokuto’s errant outbursts in the second-year classroom. 

If he was honest, he had expected the circumstances to unfold as followed:  
  
FADE IN:

INT. HIGH SCHOOL CLASSROOM – DAY

Students sit at their desks and eat their lunch. 

AKAASHI, second-year setter, reserved eyes. He’s holding out a fresh package of KNEE PADS.

AKAASHI  
Happy birthday.

BOKUTO, third-year ace, a constant exclamation mark. His school uniform is rumpled and askew. He looks like several balloons had been affectionately rubbed over his head. 

BOKUTO  
Thank you, Akaashi. That is a perfectly reasonable gift, especially given my previous pair of knee pads have begun to show visible fraying. I appreciate this gesture and will react in a moderate volume that expresses my gratitude and acknowledges your thoughtfulness.

Perhaps he had been too optimistic, but what irritated him was that the incident had started out well, lulling him into a false sense of security. The actual transgressions unfolded as followed:

  
AKAASHI  
Happy birthday.

BOKUTO  
Akaashi! Is this for me? Wow! Wow, wow, wow, wow wow wow!

AKAASHI  
Please breathe. 

BOKUTO  
How’d you know I needed these?! Wow!

AKAASHI  
I’m psychic.

BOKUTO  
Really?! That’s amazing!!! Hey, can I put these on right now? I’m gonna put these on right now!

AKAASHI  
Why?

  
Bokuto begins to open his gift, humming happily. Slowly, his face changes to horror. He stares down at the gift and screams unintelligibly. He throws the gift to the ground, leaps over the desk unnecessarily, and bursts out into the hallway. His incoherent yells diminish as he disappears towards the stairs, leaving Akaashi befuddled and irritated.

Well, ‘befuddled and irritated’ was his simple way of shielding himself. The honest truth was that he was hurt. It felt like a beloved pet had bit his hand. Akaashi checked the knee pads, running a finger over the exposed material. No nails stuck out. Bokuto liked this brand and style. There should have been no problems. 

Though Akaashi had spent all of five minutes picking out the gift from the sports store, he had been earnest in his intentions. Bokuto, despite everything (including personality, pushiness, refusal to acknowledge personal space, childishness, nosiness, intrusions, lack of common sense), was his friend. And though the gift had been simple, he had chosen it only to ensure Bokuto’s happiness. Bokuto had hugged Komi to the verge of choking for his gift of a vending machine drink that Komi originally had purchased for himself. Akaashi did not think his expectations had been extravagant. 

The sting prickled around his heart. He gritted his jaw, setting his mouth into a passive line. Tucking the criminal knee pads into his bag, he set off out the door. He trekked down the hallway to the stairwell connecting to the third-year floor. 

It seemed like he didn’t have far to go. Past the placid blue of the walls, the messy bulletin board, and the stray storage lockers, he spotted Bokuto huddled underneath the stairs. Bokuto had tried to fold his hulking body into a small ball, hands covering his ears. Enough light penetrated from the large windows to curve along his back. Akaashi stood over him and sighed. 

“Bokuto-san,” he said. Bokuto glanced over his shoulder, flinched, and twisted back away. His hands clenched even harder over his ears. Akaashi wondered who Bokuto thought he was fooling. Yes, exactly, because Bokuto wasn’t looking at him, he couldn’t see Bokuto at all.

After another moment’s indecision, Akaashi squatted down beside him. He felt irritated. He had done nothing wrong. Even if it was Bokuto’s birthday, even if Bokuto had announced it loudly for weeks before the date, even if Bokuto was his friend, Bokuto had reacted in bad taste. A birthday did not inherently deserve celebration or extra kindness. Akaashi refused to apologize. No, he would stand firm. He had only come to collect his due rewards. Today was the day Bokuto Koutarou, churlish and petulant, would finally mature. A birthday could also be a marker of society, couldn’t it. Instead of Akaashi apologizing, Bokuto would grow up and be the one to apologize to him. 

Bokuto hesitantly glanced at Akaashi. His eyes were shiny with tears. 

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi said. 

“No,” Bokuto murmured, and dropped back into reticent silence. He dropped his hands from his ears, instead gripping his arms. 

“Was it a bad gift?” Akaashi tried. 

“No…” Bokuto shook his head. 

Then Bokuto shouldn’t have reacted in such fashion. Akaashi had no enthusiasm to lecture his upperclassmen about the proper etiquette of gift-receiving, but he had to think about the others who would give him gifts throughout the day. If he could delicately phrase a rebuke, Bokuto would surely behave better and wouldn’t hurt others the way Akaashi had been hurt. It was, after all, Bokuto’s birthday. A marker of society. 

Bokuto sniffled. 

“I’m sorry,” Akaashi said again. “What’s wrong?” 

“It’s nothing…” Bokuto hunched over deeper. Akaashi sighed, barely a sound whispering out of his mouth, and placed his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. It was firm and warm. He could feel the hard and shifting muscle beneath his palm, the boniness against the gray jacket. 

“Please tell me,” Akaashi said. Bokuto swung his head, indecisive, but Akaashi could feel Bokuto’s shoulder slacken. 

“You said you were psychic,” Bokuto muttered. 

“Yes,” Akaashi said. He had been joking, but he supposed he should have exaggeratedly winked and stuck out his tongue, knocking his head with his fist to indicate juvenile charm. 

Beside him, Bokuto inhaled softly.

“If you’re psychic, then you can read minds,” Bokuto said, in a smaller voice than Akaashi had ever heard from him, “and I didn’t want you to find out that I like you.” 

Bokuto’s back rose and fell with labored breath. 

Despite everything Akaashi knew, he didn’t think he would ever be able to predict Bokuto’s behavior. The thought somehow pleased him. 

Akaashi slid his hand over to the top of Bokuto’s spine, rubbing his back in a slow and small circle. He allowed one finger to trail up Bokuto’s collar, dipping along his skin, brushing against the short hairs on the nape of his neck. The move was a small comfort, he knew, but he would indulge him. 

He was surprised, of course, that Bokuto liked him. His capricious upperclassman? Liking him? Out of all the wooing fans, Bokuto would choose, to the point of tears, the one teammate who wouldn't flatter him? But he thought wryly that this was an appropriate way of discovering the affection. This was Bokuto, after all, his troublesome senior, inconsistent and meddlesome, constantly thinking about things that Akaashi could barely track. He couldn't imagine comforting anybody else underneath the stairs, especially not during a birthday lunch. And he couldn't tell why he was comforting him at all, since Bokuto hadn't confessed and Akaashi hadn't answered. Perhaps Bokuto feared some vague rejection. But it was only Bokuto who would land him in these strange situations.

It was only always Bokuto.

In the dusk of the stairs, Akaashi allowed himself a small smile. He patted Bokuto's back once, twice.

“Bokuto-san,” he murmured. “For once, maybe I'll be the one to surprise you.”


End file.
